Sick Day
by Newverdak1502
Summary: Sometimes when you're sick, you just need to have that certain someone to take care of you. Sorry it's been a while for a new story.


Being sick is no way to spend a Saturday, especially when it is his second day being sick. This cold, complete with sniffing, sneezing, coughing and soar throat is putting up quite the fight. He's miserable. His roommates are gone for the weekend, due to his urging so as to not get them sick as well. He's under a self-inflicted quarantine, but that doesn't mean he doesn't long for company; especially her company.

She worries. He asked she stay away so she wouldn't get sick as well, but it doesn't stop her from worrying; actually it makes her worry more. She is sure he has urged his roommates to leave, because he would feel awful if he got them sick. So there is probably no one around to take care of him. She knew full well that boy is smart and clever, but he doesn't no one thing about taking care of himself (properly) when he gets sick, particularly if he is _this_ sick. Uh-huh, she isn't having that.

A pile of tissues is steadily growing on his couch as he watches TV, hoping this cold will blow over soon. A knock comes at his door and he is both annoyed and curious. He is sure anyone who would usually stop by or something would know he is in no condition to entertain guests. He yells something slightly coherent, to inform the mystery person that he is coming, slowly, but he's coming nonetheless. He looks down at his t-shirt and sweatpants; it will have to do. He opens the door and upon seeing the beautiful face before him, feels that nothing could ever make him miserable again. Yet he still gives her a look of slight annoyance at not staying away. If he got her sick, he would feel just awful.

T-shirt, sweatpants, a red nose and a slightly annoyed expression; it is exactly what she expected. She returns the look with one of innocence, concern and love, her arms wrapped around an overflowing bag with the necessities, she knows he doesn't own: soup, orange juice, cough medicine, cough drops, hand sanitizer, Vicks and 3 more tissue boxes. He steps aside to allow her entrance. She steps in and kisses his cheek, knowing he doesn't want to kiss her lips, only for the risk getting her sick. With that, she makes her way to the kitchen to unload her supplies and get to work.

Kisses should be bottled and sold as medicine, he thinks as he watches her unburden herself in his kitchen area, because certainly nothing could work better than her kisses, on the lips or not. He stands in the doorway and watches her, with nothing but love in his heart, meant only for her. Someday, she won't have to drive to his place to see him, she'll just have to wake up. It won't be for a few years, but it will happen.

She turns and sees him watching her from the doorway. She wonders what he's thinking as she sees a thoughtful and loving look in his eyes. Even when he isn't feeling well, he still gives her butterflies when he looks at her and she sees his love for her. He sneezes and gives her a sheepish look. She gives him a sympathetic look and walks to him, to embrace him. She doesn't care how sick he is, she hugs him tight-tight enough to let him know she loves him and always will.

He wraps his arms tenderly around her waist and takes pleasure in the warmth her body provides. He kisses her forehead, letting her know he's happy she came.

She smiles affectionately at him hoping it makes him smile too. He smiles back at her, it's a weak smile but she'll take it. He pushes her away for a moment as he sneezes once again. He let's out a sigh of frustration and she turns him around and marches him straight over to the couch. She gives him a slight push, and that's all it takes for him to sit down. She gives him a warning look telling him to sit, stay and relax. He pulls pillow in front of his face, in an attempt to hide from her look. She giggles at his goofiness and heads to the kitchen to get to work.

He leans back in the couch and rests his head, in an effort to relax enough to get rid of this cold. He should've known she would come over, he would do the same thing if she were this sick. That's what he loves about her, she'll drop whatever she's doing to help someone; he considers himself lucky enough to be one of those people.

She prepares soup, pours orange juice and gets the cough syrup ready. This boy is getting better, even if it kills her. She smiles to herself as she thinks how natural it feels to be taking care of him. She doesn't like to baby him, but it makes her feel useful when she can take care of him. She always feels as if it's the other way around, more often than not. As she waits for the soup to be ready, she thinks about how far they have come; from being friends to having crushes on each other and not saying anything, to now being boyfriend and girlfriend and being completely in love. Honestly she wouldn't have it any other way. She pours the soup into two bowls and walks out to the living room, half expecting him to be asleep with how quiet it's been. She sees him leaning back and looking comfortable as she walks over and places the bowls on the coffee table. She sits down on the couch next to him and he opens his eyes. As he sits up, he takes her right hand and kisses it. She blushes as she hands him a spoon.

He eats the soup, drinks the orange juice and cough medicine and prays they will do the trick. He starts to feel the effects of not having slept very well the night before and lets out a lazy yawn. He glances over and notices that she is watching and gives her an innocent smile. She smiles back and with a sudden burst of energy he launches forward and wraps his arms around her waist and snuggles close like an over-affectionate cat.

She laughs and leans back into the couch and wraps her arms around him. He adjusts and gets comfortable as she pulls the blanket over them.

Their eyes slowly close as they relish in the love and warmth the other brings to them. Sick days _are_ no fun, but they aren't that bad with the one you love.


End file.
